“What I mean—” I pause, thinking over my words.
Skin brushes my arm.Fire. Heat. Crimson…
Asher’s beside me, his voice pulling me out of my inner turmoil. “It’s fine.”
When did he move?
I force my attention elsewhere, away from him. I’ve never questioned the strength of my mask or whether it slips out of place. Until I met Asher.
Warmth curls around my arm and stays there. “You can make that phone call.” Softness. No… Gentleness. “I appreciate it.”
Punk shifts, angling her body to pin Parker with her stare. “They'll be here every day anyway, because of Mount Crow. And me.”
She's ready to draw blood on my behalf, and the knowledge settles wrong in my chest. My peripheral vision catches my friends, their stillness too deliberate, too controlled. They're one wrong word from detonating this entire charade, from tearing through Parker's polished exterior and exposing the rot that lives beneath.
I keep my eyes forward. Can't risk meeting theirs. Can't risk them seeing how deep this particular wound goes.
Parker’s mask slips back on, his smile dazzling and eyes bright. “Of course, Punk. They’re always welcome here. It’s just, I guess, overcrowding.” Then he’s gone.
My eyes still burn from being unable to blink as I remain frozen in the spot. I know this isn’t going to go to sleep with any of them. Parker showed a smidge of his true self. They’re going to have questions. Demands. Most of which they have the right to know.
I turn back around with a sigh, but pause when my eyes land directly on Asher.
With pupils blown wide and his jaw stone, it’s enough of a confirmation that this conversation is far from over.
Camille’s high-pitch snicker pierces through mine and Asher’s stare down as she shuffles up beside Jord.
She looks between the twins. “What? You had a perfect opening then, Ash. Why didn’t you use it to embarrass him? Or are you still hoping to mend the friendship?”
Mend? So they did have a falling-out.
Asher uses his thumb to brush beneath his lip, shrugging. “What and sit here for hours going back and forth on who has the bigger dick?” His tone stays light, but his eyes lock on mine. Watching. Reading. Like he can see the cracks spreading beneath my skin.
It’s you. You’re the one with the bigger dick, just FYI…
Asher pulls away, taking his body heat with him and lowers back down beside Camille.
Lucinda stares between Asher and Camille, her brows pulled in. “What do you mean?”
Camille’s ruby red lips stretch wide. “Let’s just say he knows the owner.”
Atlas interrupts before anyone can say anything else. “So. You don’t cook, Ivy?”
I blink out of my daze. What do they mean they know the owner of the Château? Every business here is operated by companies and trusts. Something like the Château le voile is old money. It’s generational. It’s older than this house, and this is one of the original buildings here. The fact they know who owns it is either a lie or both my friends are right.
I’m missing something.
***
The Games provided Veilarath with the exact kind of chaos that’s to be expected. People. Everywhere.
“You okay?” Luce asks, parking the car out the front of a bakery.
I sigh. “Yes. I don’t want to get into any of that right now.”
“That’s fine,” Luce says, turning further toward me. “But you know we are going to have to talk about it.”
Reaching for the door handle, I nod, pushing it open.
